


The Glen

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Series: The Glen [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Animalistic, Biting, Bottom Castiel, Claiming, Consent Issues, Dean POV, Dirty Talk, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot, Porn, Sad, Semi-Public Sex, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's run out of excuses to not claim Cas, so he finally does. Better late than never, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glen

**Author's Note:**

> **Contains:** Consent issues due to normalized animalistic behaviour, plus this Castiel is based on season 7's crazy!Castiel. Also contains off-screen Sam/Kevin, talk about knotting, and come-eating (sort of).
> 
> This fic is a future timestamp for [The Zoo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960236). The characters are werewolves who'd been living in captivity all their lives and subjected to manipulative breeding programs, until they were recently released into a wildlife reserve.

There are so many people Dean could blame for this. There’s Mom, who died too early. There’s Dad, who decided that the only lesson worth teaching after Mom was the importance of survival at all costs. There’s the leviathan, who thought it was a brilliant idea to make super alpha freak wolves in their labs and dump them among regular wolves. There’s Cas, one of those lab-made wolves who shouldn’t have existed at all otherwise.  
  
There’s Sam and Kevin, who… managed to be what they are.  
  
But when it comes right down to it the only person Dean can really blame for this is himself. He doesn’t _have_ to be where he is right now, watching Cas sit in this clearing, head tilted up and mouth slack a little as he watches the birds fly. Dean’s here because he chose to be, because he knows that this is one Cas’ favorite places to be when it’s quiet and there’s nothing major that needs doing.  
  
Of the whole pack, Cas was one of the fastest to take to their new habitat. Dean thinks it might be because he was made to survive anywhere, everywhere. Or maybe it could be because he has no expectations anymore.  
  
As for Dean, he’s very much lumped among those who haven’t taken to it that well, but there’s no shame there. Dean has generations of selective breeding in him; he’s made to survive in tough conditions, among limited resources. He knows he’s not made for this open sky, this wide forest. Heck, still gets dizzy whenever he looks at anything more than a dozen leaps away, like the space just can’t fit in his head.  
  
There’s also the awareness that the leviathan ain’t watching anymore. Well, they’re still _kinda_ watching, with their trackers and their occasional flying cameras, but they’re not _always_ there, just a wall away and a camera up close. Dean hadn’t known what to do with that, the first few weeks out here. Like, what if one of them ate something wrong, or got stuck in the river, or got in a fight? There’s no emergency vet gonna come in, save the day. It’s just up to them.  
  
It’s _all_ up to them.  
  
Yeah, Dean can admit it. This is the freedom Mom should’ve lived long enough to have. But although Dean remembers wanting it with her when he and Sam were pups, the years in between have culled that out of him, leaving only resigned awareness that he’s not cut out for this. The others don’t understand – not Charlie, not Kevin, not even Jody who only came into the pack at the end of it. Only Dean, Sam, Meg and Cas survived the clusterfuck that was the crossbreeding programs, that turning point where the packs became aware that they’re dying as a species. That messes with you deep, turns the instinct for survival into terror. Makes it easier to want to die. Most of them did, too.  
  
But if they’re here now – if the leviathan _let_ them live out here by themselves – it must mean that wolves are recovering as a species. Sure, their pack doesn’t have any pups or (useful) mated pairs, but there are hints that there are other packs out here, slowly learning just like they are, and they’ll eventually cross paths. What does Sam call it? The ‘hands-off’ method.  
  
Dean wants to be glad – that wolves might actually make it, that all the bullshit they went through might actually come to something – but why did _he_ have to make it? He can count off the top of his head two dozen wolves who’d do better out here, roaming free under the canopy. They wouldn’t be like him, sticking close to the central den ‘cause going anywhere further than a half hour’s trot makes him freak out.  
  
Why did Cas have to make it, too? They should’ve died during the fighting.  
  
If they died during the fighting, then they wouldn’t be here. Then _Dean_ wouldn’t be here, his belt discarded a few yards back and trying to look casual as he approaches Cas, hating that he can’t do this shifted out because if he did then Cas would see his second ears flattened to his head in anxiousness.  
  
Dean is, like, just a few feet away from Cas now, and crouching down to join him on the grass. Cas’ head bobs like a dew-heavy leaf on a fragile branch, his eyes just now registering Dean’s presence.  
  
“I can’t tell if it’s the same birds or not,” Cas says. “If they were close enough, I can differentiate between them, but they’re not.”  
  
“What, aren’t your super eyes good enough to make out every feather?”  
  
“No,” Cas says sadly.  
  
Dean used to be so fucking scared that the leviathan would take Cas away, until the day they actually did, only by then he was too pissed to be sad. He’s still pissed, to be honest, because once upon a time Cas would’ve been pissed right there with him, pushing back at Dean to give an outlet for that anger. Once upon a time Cas’d refused to take any of Dean’s shit, all lightning alpha and growling, “ _You will show me some respect_ ” any time Dean mouthed off, and Dean lost that. Cas lost that.  
  
Now Cas is this, legs tucked underneath him, enthralled as he watches the tree branches sway in the breeze.  
  
Dean puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder, waits until Cas notices the touch and turns towards him. Dean’s angry, tired and scared, but for reasons that are new. He can’t control this forest, he can’t patrol its solid edges. Cas, for all that he’s changed, is still far more familiar than everything else around them.  
  
Cas tilts his head curiously. It isn’t an invitation, but Dean takes it, leaning in close, pressing his nose to the bared side of Cas’ neck to scent him. Dean wonders how much Cas remembers of the way they were before during the worst of the fighting, when Cas turned from the other lab alphas to protect the regular wolves (because of _Dean_ ) and make a stand against the forced breeding. Dean wonders if Cas remembers those long days and nights protecting the dens, how Dean would always join Cas on patrol, the way they’d pressed their bodies together in silent watchfulness, the closeness natural yet not enough.  
  
Dean used to think Cas felt it, too, this – this _thing_ between them. But it was stupid to say anything then, do anything. Dean could ask Cas about it now, but he never gives straight answers these days. That’s Dean’s fault, too.  
  
Now Cas is turning against Dean’s face. He goes over easily when Dean pushes, too. Cas is smiling, his gums showing – he loves their group cuddling, especially during the full moon – but this isn’t that. Dean shows him by draping his body on top of Cas’, and pushing a knee between Cas’ thighs.  
  
All the reasons Dean never did this before are no longer here. It isn’t relief that Dean feels at being able to do this now.  
  
Cas moves a little underneath Dean, trying to make himself comfortable, and blinks rapidly when he feels Dean’s thickening erection. Dean waits to see if Cas shifts out, because that’s what he does when he wants to disengage, which is usually fucking annoying but is now the perfect indicator. Yet Cas stays two-legged, his black coat nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Spring’s a long way to go,” Cas says.  
  
“Don’t need mating season to do this,” Dean says.  
  
Cas frowns. “Like Sam and Kevin?”  
  
Dean huffs a laugh. Of course Cas had to bring up Sammy, who went and did the one the few things absolutely, positively, _completely_ useless for the well-being of the pack, i.e. getting himself in a non-productive mating. And Dean actually _likes_ Kevin, ‘cause the kid’s smart and bitchy and as resilient as the best of them, but that shouldn’t have been allowed. The moment Kevin got his rut and it was clear he’d only take Sam, the leviathan should’ve taken him away, thrown him into another pack with potential females, hoping that one of ‘em would stick. That’s what the leviathan would’ve done in the old days, during the worst of it.  
  
The leviathan didn’t take Kevin away. It’s not a thing they care about anymore.  
  
That’s another reason Dean is doing this now, rubbing his hard-on against Cas’ thigh, the leather of Cas’ loin-wrap the only barrier between them.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean says. “Like Sam and Kevin.”  
  
“But Sam and Kevin like each other.”  
  
“What, you don’t like me?”  
  
Cas blinks. His eyes are so fucking blue. “I like _you_.”  
  
Dean feels his face crumple, and only belatedly fixes it back with a grin. “Of course I like you, too, Cas.”  
  
There’s no way to tell if this enough to cut through all those months of Dean being an utter shitheel. Dean still remembers back when they were still in the enclave, Kevin once stumbled on Dean and Cas sitting together by stream, Dean grooming himself and Cas watching the fish. Kevin had double-taked and said, “Since when you are guys friends?” before wandering off. Because that’s what it must’ve looked like to outsiders. That’s where they’d ended up.  
  
Now, Cas just smiles. “That’s nice.”  
  
Dean’s going to have him now. He lowers his head, dragging his teeth across Cas’ neck. Dean tries not to think about how he could’ve done this ages ago and lost him then, only to not do it at all and losing him anyway. Cas is alive, and in the same space. That’s better than fucking nothing. It _is_.  
  
Cas makes a surprised noise, chest heaving when he breathes. Dean drags a hand up Cas’ chest, finding a nipple and rolling it into full hardness. Dean feels his cock swelling at every little sound Cas makes, every little brush of Cas’ frantic fingers against Dean’s sides.  
  
“I can’t make pups,” Cas says breathlessly.  
  
“Neither can Sam and Kevin, remember?”  
  
“But, but…” Cas swallows, though his thighs fall open, giving Dean more space to rub against. “The line, propagation, need to…”  
  
“I’ve done my part,” Dean snaps. “You forgot that, too?”  
  
“No,” Cas says, so quietly that Dean has to lean back to study his face. Cas’ eyes are dilated with arousal, but other than that it’s all confusion and uncertainty.  
  
“This isn’t for the pack,” Dean says. “This is for me and you.”  
  
A snapping sound makes Dean start. He looks up and there’s Meg, a strand of grass in her mouth and her hands on her hips.  
  
Dean groans. “The hunt’s over already?”  
  
Meg’s eyebrows go up. “You waited until I was away before jumping him? That’s so devious it’s something _I_ would do.”  
  
Dean snaps his teeth. “Didn’t ask you.”  
  
Meg’s eyes fall to Cas. “Hey champ, you doing okay there?”  
  
“Meg—” Dean growls.  
  
“ _Shut it_ ,” Meg barks. “I’m talking to Cas, not you. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but only one of us was there when Cas was broken, and it wasn’t—”  
  
“I know I wasn’t there!” Dean shouts. “I fucking know, o-okay.” Maybe Dean’s voice cracked a little at the end there. Maybe he should’ve made Cas roll over first, because now Cas can see his face.  
  
It was easier to be mad at Cas, because then Dean didn’t have to be mad at himself. He was the one who put ideas in Cas’ head of standing up to leviathan. He was the one who didn’t stop Sam and Cas from trying to escape, and he was the one who wasn’t there when Cas got caught and taken away. Worse than losing Cas that day was Cas coming _back_ , like _this_. So Dean got to see for himself what he’d done.  
  
“You didn’t even want to go with him,” Dean says.  
  
“No, I didn’t,” Meg says flatly. “Oh quit your snivelling, you couldn’t have gone with him even if you wanted. The only reason they took me was because they thought I could mate with him.”  
  
“I could’ve made them keep him with me,” Dean says.  
  
“Yeah, ‘cause that worked with every other wolf you’ve tried to keep in your pack.”  
  
Dean breath catches at the brush of fingers on his face. Cas is touching him wonderingly, drawing lines past his eyes and down his cheeks. Cas’ eyes are almost always soft these days, but sometimes there’s a glimmer in there of who he used to be. Dean misses that Cas, but it’s not like Dean is the same person he used to be then, either.  
  
“So, Cas,” Meg says. “How’s it going?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Cas says calmly. “Thank you, Meg.”  
  
That seems to be enough for her, because she starts heading back down the path she came from, calling out, “Be safe!” over her shoulder as she goes.  
  
“Cas,” Dean manages, his throat too thick for anything else.  
  
“Should I roll over?” Cas asks.  
  
Dean nods, and then Cas is shimmying underneath him, turning over onto his belly. With Cas’ arms under his head to brace himself, he’s perfect in his presentation, his neck right there for Dean to press his lips against. Dean does that, breathing deep the metal and fire of Cas’ lab-made scent. Other wolves fear that scent, or at least find it distracting in its unnaturalness. Dean, who is a freak, can only ever get off these days rubbing against something with this scent.  
  
It’s no wonder that he’s hard as fuck now, his cock pressing insistently against Cas’ loin wrap. Dean reaches down, grabbing at the leather to shove it out of the way, revealing the treasure of Cas’ ass. It’s beautiful – well, every part of Cas is beautiful, really – and now Dean gets to slide his cock between the firm cheeks, the sweat there making his journey easier.  
  
It feels fucking awesome, but of course it does. Dean watches his dick slip into the crevice, just deep enough that his knot can almost bump Cas’ tailbone.  
  
“Are you…” Cas pauses, catching his breath, “…are you going inside?”  
  
“Not today,” Dean says.  
  
Cas shudders. “You want to do this again?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dean says. “Many times. Want to get it inside you, both ends. Then in your other body.”  
  
If Cas were a lady Dean would have slick to let him know how it’s going. Cas has no slick, but he does have precious little noises, each one in time with the glide of the erection against him. As Dean builds a rhythm, Cas even embraces his part of this by canting his ass, tilting it up in accepting what his body was never made for.  
  
Cas’ breaths are short, his arousal spiking his scent into new form. It sounds like Cas has to struggle to speak at all when he says, “You can’t mount me in my other form.”  
  
“Sure I can,” Dean says. “’Cause you’re gonna let me.”  
  
That gets a very interesting sound. Dean pushes one hand into the space under Cas’ body, finding Cas hard and leaking. Dean is almost surprised that it’s this easy, that it took practically nothing at all for Cas to get wet for him. Would it have been this easy for them back when – no, Dean isn’t going to think about that.  
  
Dean is just going to take Cas as he is now. Because this _is_ Cas, no matter how long wished that things turned out differently.  
  
Cas moans so nicely, too. He’s a lab-made wolf but he moves as naturally as if he were born, shoving eagerly onto Dean’s cock as though his could take it dry, he wants it that much. Dean is tempted but this is still fucking amazing. It’s not just the crevice between Cas’ body that catches Dean’s knot so well, it’s everything about Cas – the rolling of his body, the heat radiating off him, the way he fits so well under Dean.  
  
“Gonna put this inside you one day, soon,” Dean promises. “The whole thing, knot and all. Don’t matter if your hole’s not made for it. You’ll take it, let me tie off inside you. You’re gonna hang there for hours, no escape.”  
  
Cas must be imagining it because he bucks against Dean, the back of his head almost knocking Dean in the face.  
  
“Then another time, I’ll shift out, make you take that knot, too. In this body, then your other body.”  
  
“That’s—” Cas gasps, cock jumping in Dean’s hand, “—that’s many times.”  
  
“As many as it takes,” Dean says. “Until it sticks.”  
  
Does Cas understand what Dean means? Dean hopes he does.  
  
It’s always hard to tell what Cas is really thinking these days, but the simplicity of this act has Cas fully present and participating. Dean feared how Cas would take to this, but he’s truly, fully _here._ He’s not distracted by his birds or telling stories about his flowers – he’s shaking in Dean’s arms and whining his desperation. Dean almost sobs at the relief of it, and has to snap his teeth a few times in air before getting a firm grip on Cas’ shoulder.  
  
“Dean,” Cas gasps, muscles tensing around the bite. His ass is also flexing around Dean’s cock, trying desperately to ride it. But there’s not much leverage he can get the way he is, so it’s up to Dean to fuck him firmly, each thrust practically knocking Cas forward onto his braced arms.  
  
It’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world when Cas comes. His body seizes up and he makes this helpless sound like Dean fucked it out of him, and then there’s six feet of limp, pliable wolf in Dean’s arms.  
  
Dean quickly moves his knees between Cas’ thighs, shoving them wider, and then snaps his hips sharply. Fast now, as fast as Dean can manage outside of a full-on rut, and Cas just takes it all, his lab-made body that can fell trees and break wolves now so docile for Dean’s use.  
  
The orgasm is sharp and all-encompassing, like that sudden glare of first spring sun. Dean growls, his teeth breaking Cas’ skin when he tightens the bite. Cas doesn’t even react to it beyond a pleased sigh, which might be the best part.  
  
They stay like that for a long time; so long that they might well as have been knotted together. At long last Dean releases Cas’ shoulder and arches his back, teeth bared as he growls his triumph to the world. It is done.  
  
Pleased but exhausted, Dean rolls off of Cas and onto his back. Cas, having had more time to recover, turns to look at Dean, his eyes shiny and watchful. The skin near his neck is red, which makes Dean huff his chest in satisfaction.  
  
Cas’ face, though. He is staring at Dean, though there’s no telling what he’s thinking now. Is he surprised? Is he thinking about their next time, which Dean’s already promised?  
  
“I’ll have to count the birds again,” Cas says.  
  
Dean’s stomach starts to drop, but then Cas is approaching, bracing a hand on Dean’s thigh as he crawls over him. As Dean watches, Cas’ tongue peeks out between his lips, and then Cas is lowering his face to Dean’s softening cock, carefully licking him clean. These are the languid, tender tongue swipes of a mate, which can only mean that Cas gets it.  
  
Dean presses his hands to his face, and does not cry with relief.


End file.
